


Relevant

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 10:20:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11079594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Ironically, Khan’s the Disney princess.





	Relevant

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BotanyCameos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BotanyCameos/gifts).



> A/N: Fill for BotanyCameo’s “38. ”I can’t believe you don’t like Disney movies” Khirk “Jim having watched Disney movies as some sort of classical old historical thing that he'd do, but Khan likely didn't have the time or inclination to see them even though he was contemporary"” request on [my tumblr](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/) [from this list](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/post/160417565360/prompt-list). AU where all the movies mentioned came out before Khan left I guess, Genetic Wars be damned.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Khan doesn’t run to the door like a part of him wants to—he isn’t a child, and even when he was, he wouldn’t have put his heart out on his sleeve. But he is more pleased than he shows to know that, at any minute now, Jim will return to him. If his parole would’ve allowed it, he would’ve met Jim at the spacedock. Instead, he puts away the dishes left over from the dinner he’s made in the kitchen, well within view of the door. He keeps waiting for it to burst open with excitement. Earth’s dreadfully boring in Jim’s absence, but Jim always corrects that quickly. In another year—or less, if Khan continues to appear _well behaved_ —they’ll escape the dull graveyard Earth’s become to Khan. The stars offer more promise. _Jim_ offers more.

Jim finally waltzes in, quite as loud as Khan expected, all but stumbling out of his shoes in his frenzy to get across the floor. Khan’s barely had time to look around before Jim’s locked around him, strong arms braced about his middle. The gold tunic’s still on—Jim didn’t even stop to change. How _times_ have changed. But Khan earned this—earned Jim’s trust, his respect, his _love_ —and Khan savours ever minute of it. 

He drops the final ladle into the cleaning unit and turns to meet Jim’s kiss, almost bruising in its intensity. Or it would be, to anyone besides an augment. Khan knows he may’ve found the one person on Earth who can handle all his _power_ and deliver it back in spades.

Jim breathes between kisses, “I missed you,” and drops one hand to squeeze Khan’s ass while he thrusts his tongue inside Khan’s mouth. The other hand weasels under the turquoise apron draped down Khan’s front, but on for just this purpose—holding off Jim’s insatiable impatience. It’s been too long to bypass a buildup—Khan wants the foreplay, and sexually frustrating Jim is a nice bonus; he’s always all the more fiery when he’s been made to wait for what he wants. As soon as Jim’s palm presses over Khan’s crotch, Khan steps smoothly away. 

He turns to the counter to fetch the two bowls of spaghetti he’s made, walking them to the round white table and insisting, “Sit down and eat your dinner before dessert.”

Jim, grinning broadly, moves to obey. He takes his seat and reaches out a hand as Khan brings him cutlery, then immediately sets into twining pasta around his fork. For all the power of this century, Synthesized food is never quite as good as the real thing. Jim always comes home hungry. For more than one desire. 

As Jim lifts the first forkful to his mouth, he asks, “So, did anyone in the twentieth century actually brush their hair with forks?”

Khan, now at the sink fetching water, glances over his shoulder. Jim doesn’t have the telltale look of a joke in his eyes, instead busily eating. Confused, which is very rare for Khan, he asks, “What?”

Jim rolls right on, “The funny thing is, you kind of look like Prince Eric, but in a way, I suppose you’re Ariel.” He chews and swallows but doesn’t elaborate.

It takes Khan a second longer than usual, given that this information has proven otherwise useless in his life, to realize what Jim’s referring to. Coming to take his seat across from his ever-baffling boyfriend, Khan dryly surmises, “You’re comparing me to ‘The Little Mermaid.’”

“Yup,” Jim answers, with the sort of grin he wears when he’s admitting he’s guilty but proud of it. “I watched all the old Disney movies during a dull stint in our mapping survey. According to the computer and our history officer, they were a staple of the time. It’s amazing what they managed to animate back then with such limited tools and resources. And especially... why are you looking at me like Spock?”

On the one hand, Khan finds himself wildly, absurdly _touched_. To think that Jim dedicated his off hours to pursuing and understanding of Khan is deeply welcome—it’s more than the researchers who first locked him up ever did. But then, Jim’s been better at _understanding_ than anyone, at listening and overcoming hard hurtles. But this was unnecessary, and Khan has to carefully explain, “I never cared much for those films. But I do appreciate the thought.”

Jim blinks. Khan expects a sheepish diversion of subject matter, but instead, Jim spouts incredulously, “I can’t believe you don’t like Disney movies! They were classics!”

It’s Khan’s turn to merely blink at him. A quick analysis deduces that Jim genuinely believes that, and believes they’re worth more than Khan’s given them credit for. So Khan smoothly counters, “Which would you have me dissect with you, Captain? The one that promotes Stockholm Syndrome as romance to young girls, or the one that pretends the Native Americans were equally as cruel as their white conquerors? Or perhaps the one where an actual _child_ rides off into the sunset with a man she’s never met before?”

Jim opens his mouth. But he closes it a moment later, likely digesting Khan’s words, and maybe even in the strange context that is their relationship: history can read things very, very wrong.

When Jim starts rolling up more spaghetti, Khan imagines the conversation’s over, and they can turn, instead, to their plans of what to do with Jim’s limited shore leave. Instead, Jim pops his food into his mouth and mutters around it, “I take it back; you’re not Ariel. You’re Elsa.”

Khan snorts. He couldn’t disagree more, but at the knowing smile on Jim’s face, he decides to drop it before he hears an earful of _why._ Jim was always the one person he couldn’t win against. 

At least Jim drops it for him, instead leaning a little forward to ask, “So... about this dessert...?”


End file.
